


Comte de la Crapos

by Vera_dAuriac



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Gen, Minor Violence, Post-Canon, Satire, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Sylvie is dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 17:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6713593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera_dAuriac/pseuds/Vera_dAuriac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Milady has moved on with her work. Athos, well, he isn't the man he once was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comte de la Crapos

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the bitter Milathos Shipper Club.
> 
> I don't own these characters, but I still needed for Milady to tell Athos to stick it.
> 
> SPOILERS FOR ALL OF S3.

by Vera d'Auriac

**SPOILERS FOR ALL OF SEASON 3**

Everything so far on this mission had gone perfectly. Anne had arrived in this miserable village at sunrise, and before lunch she had tracked down the man who had stolen the queen’s gold, which he still carried, and uncovered the location of the traitor who had the letters between this new financier of rebellion in the west and the Chevalier Gerard. By dinner, she had the letters, and all that remained was finding said financier, seducing the name of his contact in Paris out of him, and then slitting his throat. She had heard he was a tall, broad shouldered, handsome man in his mid-30s, and he liked to drink with the locals at the village’s one tavern. So, here she was, just after nightfall, reclining in a booth, eating a respectable stew with less respectable bread, eyeing her mark across the main room. Everything was still going perfectly. 

To make certain that remained the case, Anne scanned the other patrons, looking for any potential problems. Old soldiers, drunk boys, anyone who might attempt to rescue her mark when she slipped out the back door with him and dumped his body in the river. 

And there in the farthest, darkest corner, she saw the biggest threat imaginable, the one person most likely to turn her perfect mission into a festering mess. Athos. 

She looked up again at Mark (she might as well make that his proper name). Their eyes met and she smiled seductively, testing the waters for how difficult this would be if she went through with it. His wolfish grin told her it would be incredibly simple. But what to do? Hurry her way through this with Mark, hoping Athos stayed so consumed by his drink he didn’t notice her? Or assume she could try again tomorrow with Mark, preferably somewhere they didn’t serve wine, significantly lessening her chances of running into Athos? 

A chair fell over on the other side of the room, and Anne didn’t even need to look up to know it must have been Athos standing. But she did look, and as she feared, he was heading directly for her. He staggered and his eyes didn’t seem to focus, but, oh yes, what efforts of concentration he could muster were for her. “Hell,” she muttered. 

She turned her eyes back to Mark. He was still looking at her, although his expression had turned less enthusiastic. She guessed he was confused by her sudden change upon being recognized by Athos. Dammit. But she could surely work it out with Mark, if not today, then tomorrow. Assuming Athos didn’t ruin it all. Served her right for thinking how perfectly everything had been going. 

“Anne,” Athos panted out as he fell into the chair next to her. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. 

“Go away, Athos,” she whispered out of the corner of her mouth, moving her lips as little as possible in case anyone was watching her closely. 

“But, Anne, I love you.” He tried to take her hand, but she snatched it back. 

“That’s very sweet, but I’m working.” 

“Working? But what do you do?” 

She deigned to look at him briefly, with a raised eyebrow. “Didn’t Aramis tell you? I assumed he would before you left Paris with that pregnant mistress of yours.” 

Athos whimpered, and Anne could only shake her head. The last time she’d seen Athos this drunk, he’d been a sad, miserable bastard, but a spark of his old fiery passion had remained. But now he resembled a mongrel dog that had been kicked twenty too many times. “Sylvie and the baby are dead.” 

Well, that explained why he suddenly loved her again. “I’m very sorry to hear that,” she lied. “But you really have to go. I’m here on the queen’s business and you’re going to ruin everything.” 

“You serve the queen?” 

Anne nodded. 

“But I thought you wanted a different life.” 

She snorted. “What did you expect me to do with my life when you didn’t come to England and then abandoned me again? Become an alchemist?” 

“Actually, I have a question. Does the queen pay well? Can you spare some money?”

Anne rolled her eyes, but when they focused again, she saw that Mark had strolled over to the bar to order another round. Since he wouldn’t be leaving any time soon, she decided to deal with Athos for a minute. And by “deal,” she meant get rid of him. She unhooked her money purse from under her cloak. “So, you need money? Don’t you have a job?” 

Athos shook his head. “I quit my job when I left Paris with Sylvie, and I never found another. It turns out I don’t actually have marketable skills. Sylvie was a barmaid until everyone in the town we lived in sickened and died from the poisoned well.” 

“But you survived?” 

“I couldn’t find work and I missed Paris and I realized I’d made a horrible mistake, so I started drinking again. Never touched the water in town.” 

She wanted to say from the smell of him, she didn’t think he’d touched water since, but she refrained. Who was this Athos? The man she had once known would never be so impractical as to quit his job without having a plan when he found out he was about to become a father. 

He cleared his throat. “So, yeah, if you could spare a few sou, I can pay the owner here instead of mucking out his stable.” 

“Why don’t you muck out the stables for money and stop drinking, instead?” 

Athos cocked his head, clearly having never considered this possibility. “You’re right. You’ve always been right. Like when you said whatever you are—meaning me, not you—you love me—you meaning me and me meaning you—and always will.” 

Anne clenched her jaw to stop herself screaming at his syntactical nightmare. Is this how he had felt when she had turned up unannounced, always at the worst possible moment? “Every woman loves hearing that she was right, but in this case, I think it would be okay if we just forgot that I ever said that.” 

“But why?” Athos said, getting a little louder and drawing attention. He grasped her hand again. “I do love you!” 

Mark was one of the people now staring. Of course he was, because when a perfect mission went wrong, it went spectacularly wrong. “Stop it. People are staring.” She pulled back her hand. 

But Athos grabbed it again. “You’re my wife,” he said, thankfully at a lower volume this time. “Don’t you still love me?” 

Because this night had not quite reached rock bottom yet, Mark chose this moment to come over to their table. She slapped on a smile she really didn’t feel. “Excuse me for intruding,” he said directly to Anne, “but do you require assistance?” 

She thought for a moment of saying, “Yes,” in hopes of having Mark deal with Athos, but a glance out of the corner of her eye at the pathetic man next to her made her sympathetic enough to not want to be responsible for him getting kicked a 21st time. Instead, she pulled her hand back, again, and smiled for Mark. “Thank you so much for your concern, but I am well. He’s had a bit too much wine, but he’s harmless, I’m sure.” 

“Are you certain? I’ll be happy to throw him out in the stables for the night where he belongs.” 

Anne realized he wasn’t being metaphorical—Athos was not just mucking the stables but sleeping in them. Certainly explained the smell. “I am, but I’d like to discuss your generosity later if you’re free?” She batted her eyelashes. 

Mark smiled broadly, and it was a nice smile. Maybe she would sleep with him before she killed him. God knew after the night she’d been having, she deserved it. 

“For you, I’m free whenever you want me.” 

As Mark returned to the men he’d been drinking with, Athos said, “What just happened?” 

“What just happened is that you nearly ruined my mission.” She reached into her money purse and pulled out enough to keep even Athos in wine for a month. “Here. I’ve got to go now.” 

“But I promised to always love you no matter what.” 

She had never so much wanted to punch Athos in the face. In fact, she thought she deserved a medal for not doing so. “Yes, and then you tried to hang me, and not in a sexy way. Besides, I forgave you for that.” She sighed. “I’m leaving.” 

“Aren’t you going to forgive me again?” 

Anne was half out of her chair, but she paused to turn her puzzled look on him. “I wasn’t planning on it.” 

“But we’re bound to each other. You said.” 

Mark winked at her from across the room, and headed for the back door. He clearly wanted her to follow, and if she didn’t, she feared he would run away. It was now or give up her mission for at least the night, if not forever. The mission had already been successful enough that the queen would be pleased, but Anne took pride in her work. She need to get away from Athos and finish the thing properly. 

“It’s nice to know you were listening, but I really don’t have time.” 

“As long as we’re both alive, we’ll never be free. It’s true. I see it now.” 

Anne leaned against the table with her head bowed, fighting the urge to rip his throat out. Again, not in a sexy way. “It’s lovely you’ve finally figured out what I said years ago. But you’re going to have to be free of me for the rest of the night, at least.” She put more money on the table, intending for them to be free of each other for far longer than just tonight, not that he needed to know that. “Goodbye.” 

She heard him gasp behind her, but she made for the door as quickly as possible. Hopefully, like a stray dog, if she walked away fast enough and refused to acknowledge him, Athos would stay where she left him. “Truly, goodbye, Athos. Good luck you sad bastard,” she thought as she pushed open the door. 

Mark leaned against a tree along the riverbank, just a few feet from the back door. He looked up when he heard her approaching, so she slapped on her smile, straightened her spine, and strolled over to him. She just needed his contact in Paris, and she could hop on her horse, hidden in a clump of rhododendrons up the road, and be on her way home. 

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, dropping her voice and her chin. “But you have a generous nature, so I’m certain you forgive me.” 

Once she ducked under the branches, he placed his hand on her shoulder, pulling her close. “I’m quite sure there’s not a man alive who couldn’t forgive you anything.” 

Anne, usually so in command of herself, could not contain a snort. “You might be surprised.” She slid her dagger from under her cloak as he leaned in and kissed her neck. It felt nice, and she wished she could take her time, actually lead him to the rhododendrons and spread her blanket on the ground for them. But with Athos inside, she didn’t dare take any chances. She needed to get this mission back to perfect. 

She reached around Mark, as though embracing him, but in fact she was pressing the tip of her blade under his ear. “Do you still think I can be forgiven anything?” 

“I would be more than happy to if you put that back in your belt.” 

“I wish I could,” she whispered in his ear. “But I’m in a bit of a hurry. Truly, I wish I had time to do this properly.” 

“Well, if you must go, you must,” he said, releasing his grip and trying to step back, but she held him close, never moving the knife’s point. “I’m sure this isn’t necessary. Did you just need some money? Go ahead and take my purse. It’s hanging from my belt.” 

“I actually don’t need your money, but again, your generosity will linger in my memory. No, I need information.” 

“Anne! What’s going on?” 

It was Athos. Of course, it was Athos! She should have knocked him unconscious. He tripped over his own feet, almost falling on his face, as he staggered out of the back door. Mark shifted, but she squeezed tighter and pricked his skin with the tip of her blade. 

“Not now, Athos,” she hissed. “Did you not hear me when I said I was working?” 

“Working?” Mark chuckled. 

But before Anne could answer him, Athos said, “We are bound to each other!” 

“You already said that,” she snapped. 

“There seems to be something going on between the two of you,” said Mark. “I would be more than happy to give you some time alone.” 

“This is absurd,” she snapped. “Athos, shut the hell up. You,” she kicked Mark in the back of the knee, dropping him to the ground. “I know you are helping to finance the Chevalier Gerard’s rebellion. I need to know your associate in Paris, and then you can go.” 

Mark laughed, even kneeling on the damp riverbank, her blade ready to end his life. “Oh, of course. No problem whatsoever.” 

“Are you threatening to kill this man?” Athos asked. 

“Of course I am! What do you think I do?” 

“Perhaps you should take some time to explain it to him?” Mark suggested. 

“Unless you’re telling me who your contact is in Paris, you can stop talking,” she said. 

“But Anne, I thought you didn’t want to be like this anymore. You wanted to be like we were once before. That’s what you told me before you left.” 

“Shut up! Both of you!” Anne growled. “You,” she punched Mark in the back of the head. “Tell me who you work with in Paris, or I will kill you.” 

“And you’re saying that nothing bad will happen if I tell you?” he laughed. 

Anne made a swift, but non-lethal, cut along his collarbone. “I can promise that in ten seconds I will dump your lifeless body in the river if you don’t. I case you failed to notice, I found you, so I can find your colleague in Paris as well. I merely thought being the generous spirit you are, you would want to save me the trouble of doing it myself.” She made another slice across his shoulder. 

Mark grunted, apparently not impervious to pain. “I can see you are a woman of your word. I can’t tell you how disappointed I am that we couldn’t spend more time together.” 

“Five seconds.” 

“Pierre Leroux. He’s a carter on the Rue de Cristo. He’s actually far more important than me, and I am the soul of discretion, so I will just be going now.” He shifted as though to stand, but she pushed him back down.

“Yes, you will.” Anne plunged her dagger point directly into the artery in his neck and swiftly pushed him away to avoid getting blood on her clothes. 

“Oh my God, Anne!” Athos said rather breathlessly. “You killed him. You said he had to tell you his information or you’d kill him, but you killed him even though he told you.” 

“Oops.” She wiped her blade clean on Mark’s cloak. Blood still seeped from the wound, but his eyes had gone glassy and he stared at nothing. “Can you at least help me roll him into the river?” 

“Help you…what?” 

“Roll his body into the river. Are you deaf and stupid? Come help me.” 

Given a direct order with a little fire seemed to shake Athos from his stupor. He hustled as quickly as his drunk legs would allow and he squatted at her side. “On three,” she said. She then counted, and with a few shoves, Mark splashed into the fast-flowing river. 

“You are the most remarkable woman I ever met.” 

Anne heaved a sigh while her eyes rolled to the back of her head. “That’s nice. I’ll be going now.” 

“Anne! You can’t leave! I love you, and I always will.” 

“You’re a pathetic loser,” she said, rounding on him. “I don’t even know who you are. There’s nothing of the passionate young man I married. Or the noble, conflicted soldier who clung to the past. You’re just ridiculous. You aren’t the Comte de la Fere or Athos. You’re…Crapos.” 

“Wha..what?” 

She nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. Crapos. The Comte de la Crapos. That’s who you are. If you ever find one of the men I loved, be in touch. Until then, fuck off.” Spinning to face the road, she started toward her horse, smiling, perhaps a bit ruefully, but happy that the mission had ended perfectly.


End file.
